


beguiling horrors

by syssarcoses



Series: paradisiacal endeavors [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Author Is Not Religious, Blasphemy, Blood and Gore, Bottom Anakin Skywalker, Getting Together, M/M, Masturbation, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Rimming, Top Obi-Wan Kenobi, Vampire Obi-Wan Kenobi, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-22 16:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30041487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syssarcoses/pseuds/syssarcoses
Summary: A two-part story detailing the events of Anakin's early days living in Obi-Wan's castle.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: paradisiacal endeavors [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2204538
Comments: 7
Kudos: 27





	1. camaraderie

**Author's Note:**

> The only part of this fic with gore in it is a nightmare, the beginning and end of which will be indicated by ~~~
> 
> If you'd like to read but skip past the nightmare, just be aware of those symbols so you know when to skip over that content.

June 13, 1522

“I’m glad I brought my own supplies. I knew you wouldn’t have a bite to eat here,” Anakin declares, triumphant as Obi-Wan scoffs from beside him, the kitchens of the castle clean but cold, painfully unused, as if begging for the touch of a loving hand. Anakin chuckles, slicing one of the potatoes he’d brought with him, hearing Obi-Wan’s feet move against the stone floor as he shifts. Obi-Wan is moving away from him. Consciously moving away, Anakin knows. It bothers him, pains him like the sting of a hornet, painful and repetitive. 

“What are you making?” Obi-Wan asks, as if he’s curious but in denial of his own simple feelings. Anakin rolls his eyes. Obi-Wan will learn.

“Just some stew. Want some?” And as Anakin turns his head to look at Obi-Wan with a tease in his eyes, his hand slips, his knife errs in its trajectory, and pain blooms in his left hand. He looks down to see blood pouring from his thumb onto the food he is slicing, the vibrant red of it staining the beige flesh of the potato. Anakin moves to lift his hand, but Obi-Wan is already all but on top of him, grabbing Anakin’s left wrist and spinning him around to face him, his grip nearly bone-crushing.

“Obi-Wan, what—” Anakin begins, but Obi-Wan’s left hand is now gripping Anakin’s waist, holding Anakin in place as he brings Anakin’s left hand to his mouth and inhales deeply, as if savoring something sweet, something worthy of a second glance. Anakin feels a bit unsteady, unsure of Obi-Wan’s intentions but secretly knowing all too well just what they might be. Obi-Wan looks at Anakin, his crimson irises so bright Anakin would look away were it not for the fury of curiosity in his heart.

“How strange, that your end should come about by such a little thing,” Obi-Wan murmurs, before he presses a kiss to the wound on Anakin’s hand. Anakin shivers as Obi-Wan raises his head, grinning, Anakin’s blood staining his lips and beard. Anakin feels pure, cold terror seeping through him, taking root in his gut and growing into a twisted tree that threatens to surge up through his throat and choke him. He opens his mouth, but silence is all he knows.

“Don’t run, Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice is a command, yet it does little to drown out the chorus of voices within Anakin’s head, the cacophony overpowering anything but the primal need to _move,_ to _run_ , to _escape_. Anakin yanks his hand from Obi-Wan’s cold grasp, backing away from the predator Obi-Wan truly is, turning his head fractionally to see where the door of the kitchen is, his heart racing and his breath shallow. All he has is this, this moment, before his inevitable end. He looks at the door. He looks at Obi-Wan. 

And then he runs.

Anakin whips around, hears the knife clattering to the floor and runs through the kitchen door, sprinting down the corridors of the castle, not once turning to look behind him as he dodges stone pillars, hearing the thud of his boot-clad feet against the stone and the pounding of his blood in his ears, his thumb still slightly dripping blood. He has a fleeting thought of how this will all end. Obi-Wan will smell out the trail of his blood, track him down through these corridors like the hunter he is. He will come slowly, carefully. He will savor this kill. Anakin knows this. The knowledge slams at his consciousness like a velvet-covered sledgehammer, the softness of any exterior of Anakin’s previous fantasies no protection for the savagery that lies beneath. For a moment, Anakin thinks he hears footsteps behind him, so he pushes himself harder, quickens his pace as much as he can. At the very least, he will not scream. When Obi-Wan closes in, when he wraps his arms around him for the last time and sinks his fangs in, Anakin will not cry out.

But Anakin reaches his quarters. He stumbles into them, chest heaving in his fear, closes the heavy wooden door and bolts it. It will be no use against Obi-Wan. He will come, and it will be the end of all things.

Obi-Wan is nowhere to be seen.

Anakin staggers over to his bed, intent on at least enjoying this small comfort before his death. He flops down on the mattress, gazing up at the ceiling. Obi-Wan is not here yet. Anakin imagines what it will be like. Will he be harsh, rough? Or will he be gentle? What would Obi-Wan have done if Anakin had stayed? Anakin’s thoughts smash into the sides of his head as if with tiny battering rams, one thought after another crashing into his consciousness, and he waits for Obi-Wan to arrive. But Obi-Wan has not appeared yet. Anakin thinks back on Obi-Wan’s grin after he tasted Anakin’s blood, the look of sheer delight in his eyes. Anakin thinks on the press of Obi-Wan’s lips to his finger, so soft, so careful, as if Obi-Wan didn’t plan on carelessly devouring him in that instant.

But oh, how lovely the feeling of his mouth, how tempting the pull of his gaze. What if Anakin had stayed? Would Obi-Wan have licked the blood from his hand? Would he have sucked on Anakin’s fingers until any trace of it was but a memory? Anakin looks at his bloodied left hand, the blood dried now, and sighs. Would Obi-Wan have kissed his wrist next? Would he have kissed up Anakin’s bare forearm afterwards, lavishing attention on Anakin’s scarred skin? Perhaps Obi-Wan would have wanted to kiss up to Anakin’s collarbones, and he would have requested Anakin take his shirt off.

Anakin thinks. Anakin thinks on what it would feel like to have Obi-Wan kiss his neck again, or drag his fangs across his sensitive skin. Perhaps leaving was the wrong decision. Perhaps Obi-Wan would have wanted to _touch_ him. Anakin finds his hand wandering towards his pants, toying around with his waistband, his fingertips dancing over sensitive skin. He feels his cock hardening, and thinks on the sheer atrocity of the fact that he left without giving Obi-Wan a chance to touch him. He’s been a fool, he decides, but that does nothing to ease the curling ache in his lower stomach, that twist of need and heat that threatens to overtake him. He gives in. He reaches a hand inside his pants and grips his already leaking cock, hissing slightly as he feels that first sensation of contact that he so dearly wants.

“ _Oh_ …” Anakin breathes, feeling clarity come to him as he begins to stroke himself, the remnants of fear and the beginnings of desire twining together to create a marriage of sorts that is all too sweet to deny. Anakin enlists the help of his other hand, using both to pull his pants down around his knees, his cock springing free, Anakin releasing a sigh of relief as he grips it again, brushing his right thumb over the head, smearing precum on himself as he gently moves his hand. He thinks on Obi-Wan’s eyes. How would it feel to have those ruby-red eyes on him as he touched himself? Would Obi-Wan direct him, or would he sit back and watch him play? Anakin’s heart thrills at the prospect of Obi-Wan whispering instructions to him, the very thought of it making his cock twitch in his hand.

Anakin lies back, his head on the soft pillow, hand moving up and down as he closes his eyes, mind alight with all possible scenarios in which he did not leave the kitchen. He certainly would have been safe had he stayed. Obi-Wan would not have allowed harm to come to him. Obi-Wan would have kissed him, would have touched him, maybe even would have _taken_ him. Perhaps they would have walked, hand-in-hand, back to Obi-Wan’s quarters, where Obi-Wan would have undressed him, kissing every inch of his skin as it was revealed. Obi-Wan would have laid him down on the bed and fingered him open, spreading his legs so he could reach his hand between them and push inside Anakin, preparing him—

“Ah! _Obi-Wan—_ ” Anakin moans, the pace of his hand increasing. He thinks on how he’d cry Obi-Wan’s name as Obi-Wan pushed the head of his cock inside him, how his toes would curl, how he’d grip at the bedsheets as Obi-Wan pressed further inside him, stroking his hair and kissing his neck as he started to move within him, Anakin whining for more yet being so overwhelmed already. Anakin thinks on what it would _feel like_ to have Obi-Wan’s cock inside him. It would be perfect, he decides. Perfect and thick, thrusting in and out of him in a slick glide that would threaten to undo both of them. And perhaps Obi-Wan would make him come all over himself, fucking him through it as he whimpered from oversensitivity and need—

“Oh, _fuck_ —” Anakin cries, stroking himself one last time before coming over his fist all too soon, his orgasm coming sooner than expected, intense and long-lasting, his body shaking through it as he squirms and whimpers what he wishes was a coherent version of Obi-Wan’s name. He pants as he comes down from it, opening his eyes to realize he is still alone. And now he needs cleaning. He sighs, the tension from before having already been swept away in the wake of his orgasm, and sits up to see he’s come all over himself. Sighing again, he begins undressing. He will deal with this problem later. For now, exhaustion lurks at the doorstep of his mind, his fear and arousal flushed from his system. He pulls his boots off, then his pants, before leaving everything in a pile next to the bed and climbing under the bedspread, nuzzling up against the pillow and closing his eyes. Obi-Wan will come to him whenever it is meant to happen.

~~~

“There you are, my dear.” Obi-Wan speaks. Anakin opens his eyes to find Obi-Wan in bed with him, stroking his hair. He smiles up at him. It feels right. Obi-Wan leans down and begins kissing his neck, his fangs scraping across Anakin’s skin, but not puncturing. Obi-Wan would never do that. Anakin sighs, his hips moving upwards slightly as Obi-Wan climbs on top of him. Anakin whines at the sensation of Obi-Wan’s cock brushing against his own. So they’re naked. Anakin doesn’t know how he wouldn’t remember this happening, but oh, it feels lovely. Obi-Wan is whispering against his neck, now.

“How would you like me to take you, little wild rose? On your back? Mmm, would you like me to hold you down, push my cock into you until you feel perfectly full? Anakin, oh so divine, about to be defiled for the first time,” Obi-Wan purrs, and Anakin finds himself whimpering, wondering what could have prompted this change of heart in Obi-Wan. But he knew this. He knew Obi-Wan would come, and he knew what would happen when he did. So he arches into the touch as if he were never made to do anything else.

“ _Yes_ , Obi-Wan. I knew you’d come to me. _Fuck me_ , please. I can prepare myself if you want. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready for you. Oh, I want your cock, Obi-Wan. I want it inside me so badly,” Anakin moans as Obi-Wan grinds their hips together, the friction not nearly enough but already all too perfect.

A knock sounds at the door. Obi-Wan lifts his head. Looks at Anakin.

“I’ll just be a moment, my dear,” Obi-Wan says, and he climbs off of Anakin and the bed, standing. Anakin blinks. Obi-Wan is dressed now. That seems rather odd, but Obi-Wan is much faster than a human, so Anakin simply pulls the bedspread up around him and watches as Obi-Wan walks to the door of the bedroom. Obi-Wan opens the door. It’s Anakin on the other side. Anakin blinks again, confused. Obi-Wan looks back at him.

“Ah, just who I wanted to see,” Obi-Wan says, and he kisses Other Anakin on the cheek. Other Anakin sighs and leans into it. Obi-Wan gently cups his face in his hands. Anakin is entranced as his other self smiles softly, Obi-Wan reaching up to place his hands on either side of the young man’s head. Then, Obi-Wan jerks Other Anakin’s head, to far too sharp an angle to be natural. A sickening, wet crunch echoes throughout the room as Anakin’s other self goes limp under Obi-Wan’s hand, his neck clearly broken. Anakin shoots up in the bed, the bedspread pooling around his hips as his other self crumples to the ground, Obi-Wan grabbing one of his arms by the wrist.

“Obi-Wan—” Anakin begins, but Obi-Wan shakes his head as if admonishing, and Anakin closes his mouth as sharply as if he’d been forced to. Obi-Wan turns back to the Other Anakin and uses his left hand to brace himself as he twists his arm out of its socket, a sickening noise echoing off the room’s stone walls as Anakin watches in horror.

“Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be ready for you,” Obi-Wan says, smiling. And then he rips the arm off Anakin’s other self, blood spattering on his clothes and pouring from Other Anakin’s shoulder, now bereft of its limb. Anakin chokes on any words he may have wanted or thought to say, his breath catching in his throat as Obi-Wan lifts the arm he’s ripped off and licks at the place it would’ve been connected to a shoulder, his tongue dripping with the redness only given to blood, watching Anakin as he sinks his teeth into sinew and veins, his fangs looking sharper than Anakin has ever remembered.

“Obi-Wan, please—” Anakin begs, but Obi-Wan drops the arm he is holding onto the floor, holding a hand up, demanding silence. Anakin closes his mouth again, his fear a knife against a whetstone, sharpening with each flicker of Obi-Wan’s red eyes.

“Balance, in all things,” Obi-Wan says, and he walks over to the other side of the corpse before bracing himself and ripping the other arm off. Anakin feels dizziness growing within his head as blood pours from both open wounds, but he can swear he hears Obi-Wan laughing, bright and beautiful and icy cold. Anakin watches in abject terror, his senses screaming at him to get up and run. Obi-Wan begins to walk back around to the other side of the dead body, and Anakin...hears splashing. He looks over the side of the bed to see a shallow coating of his other self’s blood coating the floor, only a few inches, yet the sight chills him to the bone, sending a fresh wave of fear rushing through his body. 

Anakin hears a ripping sound he wishes to all high Heaven he could forget, and looks back at Obi-Wan, who now stands in blood a few feet deep, soaking through his pants and threatening to overcome the edges of the bed Anakin sits on. Obi-Wan holds Anakin’s severed head, the face frozen in an expression of contentment, blood dripping from the neck and adding to the ever increasing pool in the room.

“I don’t like when they can look at me,” Obi-Wan says, and he uses his free hand to jab his fingers into one of Anakin’s eyes, digging at the eyeball until it’s torn out. A piece of stringy, fibrous tissue follows the eyeball on its way out of Anakin’s skull, dangling in Obi-Wan’s hand. What _is_ that? Still, Anakin watches. And then the blood reaches the edges of the bed, pouring over the bedspread and wetting the blankets he sits under. Anakin scrambles away, and even in his horror he cries out for him.

“Obi-Wan, _help_!” Anakin cries, but as he looks back to where Obi-Wan stood, there is nobody there. He’s alone with the corpse of his other self that’s now floating in the blood welling up around them. Anakin climbs out of the bed and makes to run for the door, but he slips in the slickness of the blood, falling face first into it, his mouth subconsciously opening to call out for Obi-Wan even in his fall, the sickening taste of blood filling his mouth as he scrambles to break the surface. But there no longer is any surface. Anakin swims forever upwards, but his lungs burn and the red ocean surrounding him knows no end. He is _drowning_.

~~~

“Obi-Wan! Obi-Wan! Help!” Anakin screams as he shoots up in bed, the bedspread clinging to his sweaty skin. In an instant, the door begins to rattle. 

“Anakin? Anakin, are you alright?” The voice is at once soothing and terrifying, but Anakin wraps the bedspread around himself and runs to unbolt the door. Obi-Wan stands on the other side, looking every bit as calm and collected as usual, but there’s an unsettled look in his eyes. Anakin turns around, running back to climb into bed, and Obi-Wan follows. Obi-Wan kneels on the stone floor as Anakin turns to face him, Obi-Wan’s face guarded as Anakin feels his eyes widen at the memory of the nightmare.

“Is that it? Is that all I am to you, really? Obi-Wan, you didn’t even _feed on me_. You just took me apart, and, and…” Anakin trails off, hands shaking at the memory as Obi-Wan looks at him in puzzlement.

“Anakin, I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. I certainly haven’t hurt you,” Obi-Wan says, reaching a hand out to place it on the bed. Anakin inhales sharply at the sight of it, almost believing it will be the final breath he draws. He looks into Obi-Wan’s crimson eyes again, heart pounding, all memory of goodness in the world gone from him now.

“My, my _dream_ , Obi-Wan. It’s true. Am I only food to you? And not even that, but something to be _wasted_?” Anakin asks, hoping for a very distinct answer and fearing another equally distinct one, clutching the bedspread about him in a cocoon of warmth so different from Obi-Wan’s ever cold skin.

“You should be,” Obi-Wan says, an air of finality in his tone. Anakin blinks.

“What?” The word comes out of Anakin’s mouth almost unbidden.

  
“You should be. You should be nothing more to me than an especially pleasant meal. However, I would be remiss if I did not acknowledge the divinity within you which forces me to think perhaps that choice would be a mistake…” Obi-Wan muses, and his hand inches closer to Anakin. Anakin resists the urge to flinch away, but he does not move any closer to Obi-Wan.

“I just never thought you’d be like _them_ ,” Anakin spits, now curling slightly away from Obi-Wan as he looks at him with thinly veiled hostility.

“Them?” Obi-Wan asks, now looking very puzzled. Anakin nods, thinking back on his time in his small village.

“Yes, _them_. The nobles who live in excess and take everything for themselves so they can live how they see fit: wastefully. When I first saw you stealing I thought you must be different, but after my dream—” 

“Anakin, you had a nightmare. Nothing more, nothing less. That does not reflect reality. I do not live wastefully, and I assure you, were I ever to feed on you, it would be...worshipful,” Obi-Wan says, and there’s a glimmer of something in his eyes that Anakin can’t quite name, but it makes his spine tingle nonetheless, a small aftertaste of his terror, mixed with the anticipation of the things he would like to believe will come to pass. As his dream slips from him and passes into the realm of memory, he remembers his decision, electing to ignore the warnings of his sleep.

“You gave me a year, Obi-Wan. Nothing more, nothing less, just as you said. I do not want to believe you will hurt me, though the pictures of my sleeping mind tell me otherwise,” Anakin says, the vestiges of his fear clinging to him yet being brushed off by a new feeling of determination, sparked by Obi-Wan's obvious conflict. Obi-Wan’s eyes narrow, his mouth forming a frown.

“I did, but I never promised that year would be pleasant, however divine you are, whatever reservations I may feel, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin senses his determination slinking through him like a leopard on the prowl, pouncing on him with all the force of a brick wall.

“Well, Obi-Wan, I don’t plan on leaving soon, whatever you are,” Anakin states, his spine straightening, an indication of the stubbornness now flooding through him. Nightmare or not, Obi-Wan is here, and Anakin is curious. Obi-Wan’s predatory declarations will do nothing to stop him from staying.

“You _will_ leave, you, the wild rose so eager to be plucked,” Obi-Wan says, and he balls his hand on the bed into a fist, grabbing at the bedsheets as if to prevent himself from performing some sordid action this very second.

“I don’t think so. If you want me to leave, you’ll have to _kill me_ ,” Anakin whispers, feeling adrenaline surge up from his stomach again at the statement. Obi-Wan’s eyes widen, and he curls his lip in a sneer, as if Anakin’s words are offensive to everything he believes to be true and right.

“I think you should leave. _Now_ ,” Obi-Wan says, his voice hardening into something steely, his expression opaque as he withdraws his hand from the bed. But Anakin reaches out and grabs his wrist as tightly as he can, feeling the spark within him kindled to a raging flame, licking at his insides and encouraging him on this path.

“I don’t think I will. I’m staying. And you won’t hurt me,” Anakin says, confidence that barely wavers clearly heard in his voice as he speaks. Obi-Wan rips his hand away, the motion rough and unforgiving.

“If you choose to stay without any time limit, you have sentenced yourself to death with no reprieve,” Obi-Wan says, standing up to look down at Anakin, his expression cold and imperious, every bit the predator pretending not to be interested in the perfect piece of prey dangled before his eyes.

“You won’t kill me,” Anakin asserts, now having gone too far to tread back, having declared himself a permanent resident of the castle for as long as Obi-Wan doesn’t take his life.

“Won’t I…” Obi-Wan says, leaning down and cupping Anakin’s chin in his hand, Anakin resisting the urge to shiver at his touch. Obi-Wan strokes Anakin’s skin with his thumb, almost as if...reverently.

“You won’t. You know you won’t. You may not have admitted it to yourself yet, but there will come a time when you will look at me, and the _idea_ of my death will disgust you,” Anakin says, the words spilling from his mouth in a stream, his own mind barely aware of what’s being said.

“As if it doesn’t _disgust_ me already, the idea of such a sacred thing lying bloodied and broken on the floor. Anakin, you know not of what you speak,” Obi-Wan says, a look in his eyes as if he’s regretting something that has yet to happen. Anakin’s heartbeat sounds thunderous in his ears as Obi-Wan leans down to kiss his forehead softly, his lips brushing against his skin, the brush of his beard almost phantom in its transient nature. Anakin does shiver now, the feeling of it trickling through his body.

“You won’t hurt me, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, surety lacing his tone as Obi-Wan pulls away and releases his chin, a look on his face as if he’s already lost something very dear to him.

“We shall see, wild rose. We shall see,” Obi-Wan says, turning on his heel to head towards the bedroom door, his footsteps silent as a clear starry sky.

“Either way, I’m staying,” Anakin says, determined to ensure Obi-Wan’s awareness of the situation, his fists balled up in the bedspread as if to hold in all the tension coiled within his body. Obi-Wan turns around slowly, gazing into Anakin’s eyes as if in challenge.

“As I said before, we shall see. But while you’re here, do try to stay tidy,” Obi-Wan says, gesturing to the pile of Anakin’s discarded clothes before turning back around and walking through the door.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, intent on conveying his decision to its utmost effect. Obi-Wan stops in his tracks, but he does not turn to look back.

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan states, his tone hard but starting to soften around the edges, almost as if his mind would like his voice to caress the sound of the name.

“I’m right,” Anakin declares, now releasing his grip on the bedspread, his body relaxing into calm decision.

“One year,” Obi-Wan says, and he walks through the doorway, closing the door without any further goodbye.

\---

June 19, 1522

“What are you doing?” Obi-Wan asks as Anakin enters the room with an armful of roses from the gardens, cheeks heated from the sun, his skin warm and his hair a bit windblown. Anakin walks past Obi-Wan without a word, heading towards the other end of the room where a pitcher stands on a table. He places the roses carefully in the pitcher, arranging them to his liking as Obi-Wan remains where he is, standing by the fireplace. Anakin feels Obi-Wan’s eyes on him, boring into the back of skull with interest. He smiles softly to himself before turning around, his boots squeaking quietly on the floor as he rotates.

“Can’t you see? I’m getting ready for something special, though many would think I’m odd for thinking so. Oh, and if you feel like thanking me, I chopped wood for the fireplace so you don’t have to later tonight,” Anakin says, his smile growing as he waits for Obi-Wan’s response.

“Anakin…” Obi-Wan says, as if he’s considering something very thoroughly. Anakin’s smile begins to fade, a ray of sunlight smothered by a cloud of disappointment. He turns back around and grabs the pitcher, intent on returning outside to get water from the stream on the castle estate, but he feels a hand on his arm. Obi-Wan, as usual, has arrived all too quickly for him to sense.

“Thank you,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin thinks those words coming from Obi-Wan’s mouth may very well undo him at the seams. He turns. Obi-Wan is far closer than he expected he’d be, and he blinks a few times, reassuring himself this isn’t another dream about to tread the path of a nightmare.

“What are you preparing for, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin feels a surge of hope rush up through his chest at the question.

“I’ll be twenty-two tomorrow. I thought it would be nice to have some flowers to celebrate, even if only on my own. It’s how I’ve almost always celebrated, as many don’t even remember the days of their births, and others do not care.” And Anakin feels his spirits fall like a bird without wings, crashing to the earth as he imagines how lonely he will feel. Obi-Wan squeezes his arm.

“Well, what kind of host would I be if not one who knew when to celebrate? I can give you that, at the very least. Don’t ruin this on my account. If you wish to celebrate, we will. I see nothing wrong with remembering the entry of something so holy into the world,” Obi-Wan says, and though his face is grave and his voice is slightly strained, there is a warmth to it that Anakin basks in.

“Well, I thought perhaps you wouldn’t be interested in marking the celebrations of one who you plan to kill, apparently,” Anakin says, and it comes out less harsh than he imagined it in his mind, and far more teasing. Obi-Wan quirks his lips up in a half smile.

“My instinct to feed on you and my desire to see no harm come to you are two separate things, Anakin. You would do well to remember that. As I have said before, it would be all but a sin to wipe you from this earth. However, you are already in the lions’ den, and you may not live to see the sunrise.” And now Obi-Wan grips Anakin’s upper arm so hard, Anakin is sure he will bruise, and he elects not to think on it lest the thought lead down other pathways.

“I know that story, Obi-Wan. Daniel survived the lions’ den. When he was found in the morning, the lions laid at his feet as if trained. If I am in the lions’ den, not only will I emerge alive, I will also tame the lions,” Anakin says, subconsciously leaning in a little closer to Obi-Wan, gazing into his crimson eyes.

“But you forget, Anakin. As the story goes, Daniel had the help of a god. Were it not for that, he would not have escaped.” And perhaps Obi-Wan does not realize how hard he grips Anakin’s arm, for he squeezes even tighter, Anakin resisting the urge to wince.

“No, _you_ forget, Obi-Wan. This is a _story_. Were you there when this god came to tame the lions? Neither of us were. We only know the story. Perhaps Daniel only knew how to tame lions, and we credit a god when we should be celebrating the cleverness of a man.” And Anakin feels himself smiling, the feeling of satisfaction contagious within him.

“You’re a liar,” Obi-Wan says, his lips now curving upwards further. 

“What?”

“You cannot be only on the cusp of twenty-two, Anakin. You are far wiser than even I would like to admit, though we must remember you are dealing with something far more deadly than lions,” Obi-Wan says, leaning in even closer, so their noses are almost touching, their breath shared in the scant space between them. Anakin finds himself wanting to lean in far closer, wondering how it might feel to have Obi-Wan’s lips against his. But not yet, not now. He pulls away a bit, turning his attention back to the pitcher of flowers in his hand.

“Maybe I’m more clever than even Daniel, then,” Anakin says, all but a mumble as he arranges flowers with one hand that are already placed to his liking. Obi-Wan’s grip weakens on his arm, and Obi-Wan leans away.

“Perhaps. But as I said before, we shall see,” Obi-Wan says, still watching Anakin intently, his gaze so intense Anakin _feels_ it, though he does not turn to make eye contact.

“We shall see many things, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, his voice quiet yet firm.

“Yes, we shall,” Obi-Wan says, and he chuckles softly, the sound of it prompting a small smile out of Anakin, a smile near and dear to his heart that he knows he will remember fondly for years to come.

\---

“Anakin, wake up.” Obi-Wan is speaking, but his voice sounds as if it’s coming from a place far away. Anakin opens his eyes to see Obi-Wan standing over him in bed...with an axe in his hands. So this is to be the way Anakin Skywalker goes, Anakin thinks wryly to himself, though he feels no real fear. He sits up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before looking at Obi-Wan again.

“What are you doing, Obi-Wan?” Anakin mumbles, the tiredness in his body very slowly seeping away as Obi-Wan smiles at him.

“Why, I’m celebrating, Anakin. Can you not tell? I’ve brought you a gift. Something to help you next time you decide to chop wood.” And Obi-Wan gestures with one hand to the axe, its blade glinting in the low light of the candles that Obi-Wan must have re-lit for Anakin’s benefit.

“Obi-Wan… I’m confused. One day you tell me to leave, and another you bring me gifts in the middle of the night. What am I to think?” Anakin asks, knowing the answer he wants but fearing quite a different one. Obi-Wan eyes him as if he’s being asked to choose between two priceless objects.

“May I sit?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin nods. Obi-Wan sits on the bed, placing the axe down to lean against it.

“Anakin, the war I fight within myself is not an easy one, and I foresee no simple victory. I want you to leave because I believe it is what’s best for you, but I cannot help myself; I want to enjoy your company while I have it. Do you understand?” Obi-Wan asks, and he gazes at Anakin with a look that would be pleading were it not for the guarded nature of his facial affect.

“I understand, Obi-Wan. But I will not leave,” Anakin says, certain of his decision and firm in his intent. Let Obi-Wan deal with this how he will; Anakin will stay.

“So be it, you little wild rose. At the very least, we will celebrate the day of your birth, and I will endeavor to be as good a host as I can, under the circumstances,” Obi-Wan says, and then he grins at Anakin. Anakin feels his mouth curving upwards in a smile.

“The circumstances being that you’re trying not to kill me with every moment that passes?” Anakin teases, pulling the bedspread up a little higher around him. Obi-Wan barks out a laugh that should sound harsh but is wrapped in a kind of warm fondness.

“Precisely,” Obi-Wan says. “Now, my stubborn friend, get some rest. Tomorrow is ours for the taking.” And Obi-Wan stands, bowing to Anakin in an exaggeratedly formal manner. Anakin inclines his head in response, and the two of them giggle softly, the sound bubbling through this room that has long been far too quiet.

“Try not to kill me on the day of my birth. That wouldn’t be the way of a good host,” Anakin says, feeling a bit giddy at seeing this more lighthearted part of Obi-Wan show itself. Obi-Wan smiles.

“No promises, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, and he walks towards the door. Anakin lies back down, snuggling up against the pillow.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Anakin mumbles, already feeling sleep creeping back through him.

“If I give you that long,” Obi-Wan responds, and Anakin chuckles.

“I pray I do.”

“What?’ Anakin says, but Obi-Wan is already closing the door.

\---

June 20, 1522

“I think I should do that this time, Anakin.” Obi-Wan’s voice is in Anakin’s ear, and suddenly Obi-Wan’s arms are around his waist. Anakin instinctively leans back into it, sighing softly.

“Now, don’t get too excited, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin chuckles nervously, pulling away a bit and moving to extricate himself from Obi-Wan’s grasp. But Obi-Wan’s arms are around him tightly, and he hears Obi-Wan speak in his ear again as he takes the knife from Anakin’s hand.

“Obi-Wan—”

“No need to move, Anakin. Stay right where you are,” Obi-Wan says thoughtfully as he begins slicing potatoes. Anakin scoffs.

“That can’t be very easy for you,” Anakin says, watching Obi-Wan’s hands work slowly, Obi-Wan watching from over his shoulder.

“I’ll take it over you tempting me again,” Obi-Wan says, a hint of humor in his voice, tinged with a deep sadness Anakin wishes he could begin to comprehend.

“I was hardly trying to tempt you, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, smiling as he slightly backs up into Obi-Wan’s embrace. Obi-Wan grows rigid for a moment, then relaxes a bit, holding Anakin a little tighter.

“I know, and that is the saddest part of this,” Obi-Wan says simply, his voice resigned. Anakin decides not to press the issue, just moves his head a bit so he’s even closer to Obi-Wan than before. No matter how tragic his end, he will not deny himself this moment.

\---

“Anakin, where are your parents? Are they not worried about you?” Obi-Wan asks, the two of them walking beside each other through the gardens surrounding the castle. Anakin feels a deep sadness fill his soul as he recalls what little he does have of his mother’s memory, just those few childhood years before her death.

“I’d rather not talk about it tonight, Obi-Wan. Perhaps another time,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan seems to understand, because as Anakin looks at him, he’s nodding. Anakin sighs softly, looking at a bush of red roses nearby. Obi-Wan chuckles softly.

“So the wild rose would like a rose. It seems fitting,” Obi-Wan says, and he walks to the bush before plucking a blossom, pulling the thorns off of the stem as he returns to Anakin’s side. Anakin feels his breath leave him in a rush and then grow still as Obi-Wan reaches out to tuck a lock of his hair behind his ear, before placing the rose there, the stem behind his ear still cool from the nighttime air. Obi-Wan smiles.

“You make a ravishing dessert,” Obi-Wan teases, and Anakin laughs, the grief he felt so recently slowly being drained from his soul in the wake of Obi-Wan’s presence and new playfulness.

“I’d hope so. You are taking a rather long time to eat me. I’m beginning to grow offended, Obi-Wan. Am I not truly as appealing as you say?” Anakin shoots back. But instead of laughing, Obi-Wan’s face grows serious, and he offers his arm to Anakin.

“Walk with me,” Obi-Wan requests, and Anakin places his hand in the crook of Obi-Wan’s elbow, squeezing slightly as they continue their journey through the gardens. Obi-Wan is silent for a moment.

“Anakin, you are more tempting to me than any human I have yet to encounter, and the baser side of me would love nothing more than to taste you, feed on you, make you my own in that very physical way. But you are more to me than that. You are...you are special. The sound of your voice makes me feel as if I hadn’t really died hundreds of years ago. I want nothing more than to see you happy, though I have only known you for a very short while, and Anakin, that terrifies me. So if I tell you to leave, if I appear as though I dislike your presence, it is only because I wish no harm to come to you. Can you understand that?” As Obi-Wan finishes speaking, the courage in Anakin’s heart grows from a seed to a tender sapling, reaching its leaves up to the sun, and Anakin musters all the bravery within him for this next action. He turns his head and kisses Obi-Wan on the cheek.

Obi-Wan stops in his tracks, stopping Anakin as well. Anakin waits for the admonishing tones of Obi-Wan’s voice to hit him, but Obi-Wan is moving to stand in front of Anakin, using both hands to cup Anakin’s face, his cool fingers cradling Anakin’s cheeks.

“ _That_ was very improper,” Obi-Wan says, but as Anakin looks into Obi-Wan’s eyes, he sees a kind of desire that he can’t help but want to drown in.

“Kiss me, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, certain of his decision. If he is meant to die in this castle, he will at least ask for this. Obi-Wan’s eyes widen only fractionally before Anakin uses his last shred of courage to wrap his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist and pull him closer.

“Anakin—“

“Kiss me. It’s what I want as a gift from you,” Anakin says, and he watches Obi-Wan’s eyes flicker with indecision and then resolve before he moves closer to him, Obi-Wan’s gaze now heated.

“A polite kiss or a proper kiss for this little wild rose?” Obi-Wan says, his face so close to Anakin’s that Anakin shivers.

“A proper kiss, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, confident in his decision yet fearing Obi-Wan will run once again. 

“Close your eyes, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin lets his eyes fall shut, the warm air of the gardens breezing through his hair and Obi-Wan’s thumbs gently stroking his face.

Then, Anakin feels Obi-Wan’s lips press against his, cool and soft and perfect. He has a brief thought of what might be going through Obi-Wan’s mind, why exactly he must be doing this, but it passes like a ripple on a quiet lake as he decides to allow himself to enjoy the moment. Obi-Wan allows their lips to remain together for a second, and then he parts his lips slightly, tracing the seam of Anakin’s lips with his tongue, moving one hand downwards to cup the back of Anakin’s neck, Anakin wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist as he opens his own mouth and sighs into Obi-Wan’s touch, afraid it will be over all too soon. 

Obi-Wan slides his tongue past Anakin’s lips and slides it against Anakin’s, the feeling of it cool and perfect, Anakin tightening his grip on Obi-Wan and all but melting into him, their bodies almost intertwined under the moonlight as Obi-Wan threads his fingers through the curls at the back of Anakin’s head. Anakin moans, the sound low and filthy against Obi-Wan’s lips, thinking of how he _wants_ Obi-Wan. Will Obi-Wan take him here, now?

But then it’s all over. Obi-Wan is pulling away, pulling out of Anakin’s grasp, standing a polite distance away from him as Anakin opens his eyes and discovers the new monstrosity that is the feeling of almost being truly close to Obi-Wan.

“Why did you stop?” Anakin asks, feeling thwarted arousal dying down within him even as the words leave his lips. Obi-Wan smiles sadly, Anakin’s eyes drawn to the movement of it.

“I promised you a kiss. Nothing more, nothing less. You must be satisfied with that for the time being,” Obi-Wan says, and he stares at Anakin, waiting for a response.

“Obi-Wan, help me understand. What is it you want from me? I know what you think you will do, and I know what you think you _should_ do, but I do not know what you want to do or why you want to do it. If you intend to keep me at arm’s length until those few brief moments when you choose to humor me, I do not think I can give you the satisfaction of that,” Anakin says, feeling a part of him fall inside at the thought of the answer he knows he’s about to receive.

“Anakin, if you think I did what I just did to _humor_ you, you are mistaken. I want that as well. I simply feel the need to deny myself for both our sakes,” Obi-Wan says, before looking very thoughtful. “I still think you should leave, of course.” And Obi-Wan crosses his arms over his chest, as if he didn’t just have Anakin in his arms, as if he hadn’t just given Anakin exactly what he wants, even if only for a moment.

“Well, we know where I stand on that, so you know what you’ll have to do if you want me to leave. But at the very least, you need to make more of a decision. Either give in to wanting me, or don’t. But let me in. I want to know what’s happening inside your head,” Anakin says, the wheels within his own head turning as he thinks on what Obi-Wan must really want, and why he is denying himself that.

“Anakin, you deserve more of a decision, but as you see, I am conflicted and unable to resolve it at this point,” Obi-Wan says, his posture stiffening as he gazes into Anakin’s eyes, bright crimson meeting clear blue.

“I know I do. And I know you will give that to me. But I will not stop trying, and I will not leave. You must know this,” Anakin says, taking one step towards Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan does not move any farther away. He uncrosses his arms and lets them hang at his side, and Anakin feels his heartbeat echoing in his chest as he closes the distance between them and plants a soft kiss on Obi-Wan’s cheek. Obi-Wan seems as though he’d like to lean into it, shifting only fractionally towards Anakin’s touch even as Anakin pulls away. As Anakin looks at Obi-Wan, he sees a soft smile on his face, and Obi-Wan offers his arm to Anakin again.

“You’re welcome to continue walking with me. I know this has been a rather poor excuse for a celebration,” Obi-Wan says as Anakin takes his arm once more. Anakin shakes his head.

“No, Obi-Wan, this has been one of the best celebrations I’ve had yet. Thank you,” Anakin says, feeling some sort of satisfaction at resolution taking root in his chest.

“Here’s to many more, as a _human_ ,” Obi-Wan says, but there is humor tinting his voice.

“We’ll see about that,” Anakin says, and he squeezes Obi-Wan’s arm, feeling more content about the situation than he had before, a sense of warmth bubbling up within him like a cool spring in a wasteland desert.


	2. consummation

July 20, 1522

“Thank you, Obi-Wan. I’ll be taking some time in my quarters now,” Anakin says, standing from the library chair and nodding to Obi-Wan with a smile, his body somewhat sore after its being regulated to a sitting position for so long. He stretches, lifting his arms high above his head. Then, turning, he walks towards the library doorway. 

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, his voice almost imploring from behind where Anakin has now stopped to stand and turn his head.

“Yes?” Anakin says, hope rising up in his chest as it always does when Obi-Wan speaks. Obi-Wan smiles at him.

“Will you be joining me for our almost nightly ritual? Or should I expect you to stay in your quarters for a while?” Obi-Wan asks, and there’s a hint of...not quite _fear_ in his voice, not even anxiety, but _something_. Anakin smiles back.

“I wouldn’t miss it. Come to me when the sun sets,” Anakin says, and with that, he turns his head back again and strides through the doorway of the library, walking leisurely through the corridors as he heads in the direction of his room. He thinks on the way he no longer fears having to run through these pathways, the way Obi-Wan’s icy front is melting ever so slowly, revealing the freshness of springtime beneath, just as Anakin knew it would. He ponders his time in the castle, almost two months now, a month since his day of birth, and the way Obi-Wan has gradually extended his cold hand to him, growing closer and closer to the decision Anakin hopes he will make. And before he knows how much time has passed, he realizes he is at a bedroom door. 

But it is not his door. It is Obi-Wan’s. He shakes his head slightly. His trek into the recesses of his mind has resulted in this, and he needs to clear his head. He turns around, intending to remedy his mistake and head back towards his own room, only to see Obi-Wan leaning up against the wall opposite him, next to one of the lit torches that hang suspended on the walls of this ever dim castle.

“Lost, my wild rose?” Obi-Wan asks, a tease in his tone as he stands gazing at Anakin. Anakin furrows his brow.

“You were following me,” Anakin accuses, and Obi-Wan simply chuckles, the sound of it echoing down the hallway, bouncing off the walls of stone.

“Well I intended to return to my quarters as well, but I have to say, it was interesting watching you take your wrong turns,” Obi-Wan says, and then he spreads his arms out as if in a gesture of welcome. “And here we are.” 

Anakin purses his lips, slight embarrassment threatening to thread through his veins, layered with the very urgent sense that this is an opportunity. He smiles, saying, “Here we are. Aren’t you going to invite me in? You’re always going on about being a good host.” Obi-Wan takes a step towards Anakin, his arms still outstretched.

“Ah, but you haven’t given me a favor to show your appreciation for my invitation. Certainly you know better,” Obi-Wan says, appearing on the verge of slightly nervous laughter. Anakin rolls his eyes, though anticipation is crawling through his heart.

“What would you like? If you say you want me to leave, I won’t. You already know that,” Anakin says, crossing his arms over his chest in a firm stance. Obi-Wan does laugh now, and it’s warm, like sunlight heard and not seen.

“Oh I know it’s useless to ask for that, Anakin. We both know how stubborn you are on that front. Hmm, what would I like from my most honored guest…” Obi-Wan trails off, stroking his beard with one hand, clearly considering his current options.

“What’s gotten into you today? Are you sick? Can vampires become sick?” Anakin asks, striding forward to place the back of his hand against Obi-Wan’s forehead, feeling the skin still perfectly dry and cool as usual. Obi-Wan appears to be stifling another laugh, but as Anakin pulls his hand away, his wrist is grabbed by Obi-Wan’s unnaturally swift grip, and Obi-Wan is pressing his lips to the back of Anakin’s hand, his lips as cool as the rest of him. Anakin’s eyes widen.

“What—” Anakin says, but Obi-Wan looks back up at him, his eyes almost glaring in their intensity as he gazes into Anakin’s eyes.

“Would you like to join me in my quarters for a time?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin simply nods. It is enough for Obi-Wan, who smiles before releasing Anakin’s wrist and walking past him to open the door to his quarters and extending his arm to Anakin as if in a gesture of good faith. Anakin smiles, walking towards Obi-Wan and through the doorway, looking around the somewhat plain room, the chair in one corner, the table against one wall, piles of books atop it, and the smaller table beside his bed. The bed. It’s covered in a wine red bedspread similar to the one in Anakin’s quarters, but this bed is much larger. Anakin swallows thickly as Obi-Wan closes the door behind them, banishing thoughts from his mind of being spread out on that bed.

“Please, sit on the bed,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin feels the last shred of calm within him rip itself to pieces as he all but numbly walks towards the bed and sits down gingerly, feeling the mattress give slightly under the weight of his body. He squares his shoulders as he looks back at Obi-Wan, who now sits in the chair on one side of the bed.

“Thank you for inviting me in, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says simply, and Obi-Wan nods once. Anakin forces down his desire. There are things that must be spoken here that have thus far remained unsaid.

“It is my pleasure, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin feels that he must be very open yet tread this topic delicately so as to not misspeak his feelings. He inhales deeply and Obi-Wan watches him, as if knowing what he is about to say.

“We must talk,” Anakin says, as a way to gauge Obi-Wan’s response. For this to work, Obi-Wan must be willing. 

“Indeed, we must. Why don’t you begin, Anakin? I have much to say to you,” Obi-Wan says, sounding as if he’s accepted something that Anakin has yet to be made aware of. Anakin hopes this will bode well for him, and steels himself to speak.

“Obi-Wan, I care for you, deeply. In my time here, my feelings have grown from simple curiosity into something greater, and I...greatly desire your company, in a way that is more than has been given to me,” Anakin says, and he takes a breath, realizing how tightly he is wound. Obi-Wan looks as if he’s been told something that deeply saddens him.

“Anakin, you must know I want to give that to you, but I will not be responsible for your death, or worse, damnation. It is what a part of me desires, but I will not hurt you in that way. But Anakin, never doubt that I want you, in what I believe is the same way you want me,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin feels disappointment and hope twine through him in equal measures.

“So where does that leave us now?” Anakin asks, knowing this conversation is one he does not want to have, but must happen. Obi-Wan strokes his beard thoughtfully.

“I suppose you have made your choices, and I must make mine. I must cease to continue this game we are playing at and decide what to do with you,” Obi-Wan says, and the callous nature of his words sparks frustration in Anakin, hot and insistent.

“You speak of me as if I were a dog yapping at your heels, not someone with an equal stake in this,” Anakin snaps, his frustration growing as he balls his hands up into fists. Obi-Wan stands slowly, walking over to the bed before reaching a hand out and cupping Anakin’s chin, tilting Anakin’s head upwards. Anakin glares at Obi-Wan, just waiting for him to make some patronizing remark.

“Anakin, you are my equal in this. I do not want to make any decision that hurts you, but you must understand my position is not an easy one to hold,” Obi-Wan says, Anakin resisting the urge to move his face from Obi-Wan’s grasp. He must not succumb to the anger waiting at the gates of his consciousness, demanding entrance.

“Your position is this: you want to kill me or you want to let me live. You want me as something other than a friend or you do not. I know you are not a fool, Obi-Wan. You are simply afraid to make your decision,” Anakin says, and he lets his hands relax, taking a deep breath in an attempt to dispel any negative feelings towards one whom he holds dear. Obi-Wan leans in closer to Anakin, his voice soft.

“My position is _this_ , Anakin: I want you, just as you want me, but I do not want harm to come to you. And that _terrifies_ me. You are right; I am afraid to make my decision. But I will make it, because that is what you deserve. Forgive me if I am slow to allow myself the possibility of happiness,” Obi-Wan says, leaning in to kiss Anakin’s forehead, his lips cool and soft as they always are. Obi-Wan leans back to look at Anakin, a small smile on his face.

“So what do you mean? What does that mean for me? For _us_?” Anakin asks, feeling more confident by the second that Obi-Wan may just be on the verge of admitting what he has been denying himself since their first meeting.

“What this means is that I will no longer allow my fear to dictate how I know you. I wish to have you as something other than a friend, just as you want from me,” Obi-Wan says, slowly, as if each word is weighty falling from his lips.

“So we can try? We can try to be together?” Anakin says, new hope flourishing in his chest under Obi-Wan’s hand. Obi-Wan nods, brushing his thumb across Anakin’s skin.

“We can try, my wild rose. But you must be patient with me. I am not accustomed to this idea, and I do not want to hurt you,” Obi-Wan says, his tone sincere, his hand on Anakin’s chin tightening ever so fractionally, the pressure only fueling Anakin’s desire.

“And you must be patient with me, Obi-Wan. I will not shy away from my feelings for you, and asking me to do so would be agony for me,” Anakin says, feeling sure in his words and confident in his feeling.

“What have I been, if not patient?” Obi-Wan asks, ruffling Anakin’s curls with his other hand, the motion comforting and exciting wrapped in one.

“You have been patient, Obi-Wan, and I thank you for that.” And Anakin settles a bit on the bed, fighting a yawn as he remembers how tired he is as the intense emotions in his heart give way to warm happiness and contentment.

“Do you need to rest, my wild rose? Come lie with me. We may continue talking until you fall asleep, Obi-Wan says, releasing Anakin’s chin and backing away, reaching down to remove his boots. Anakin’s eyes widen, and his heartbeat quickens as Obi-Wan removes the outer layer of his clothing, leaving him in only his pants and undershirt. Anakin gulps, the prospect of seeing Obi-Wan so vulnerable at once exciting and terrifying to him. Obi-Wan walks back towards the bed and kneels in front of Anakin before reaching out to grab Anakin’s ankle in both hands, looking up at him.

“Obi-Wan—“

“Anakin, is this how you want me? Let me help you prepare for your rest.” And Obi-Wan presses a kiss to Anakin’s knee before slowly sliding Anakin’s boot off, steadying Anakin with one hand and pulling with the other before placing Anakin’s boot on the floor beside them, Anakin speechless, remaining silent as Obi-Wan grips his other ankle.

“Obi-Wan, you don’t have to—“

“Balance, in all things,” Obi-Wan says, pulling off Anakin’s other boot, setting it beside the first one before kissing Anakin’s other knee. Anakin feels a tingling rush through him at the contact, a shivering threatening to creep up his spine and make him beg for _more_. But Obi-Wan is already standing, already unlacing the front of Anakin’s shirt. 

“Lift your arms up,” Obi-Wan instructs, and Anakin wordlessly complies, reaching upwards as Obi-Wan pulls the fabric over his head, Anakin trying and failing to keep his breathing even, looking at Obi-Wan again as Obi-Wan folds his shirt and places it on the floor beside his boots, Anakin now in his undershirt and pants.

“You’re so quiet, Anakin. Are you feeling well?” Obi-Wan says, placing the back of his hand against Anakin’s forehead. Anakin chuckles, remembering how he did the same to Obi-Wan not too long ago. He reaches up to grab Obi-Wan’s wrist, then kisses Obi-Wan’s palm.

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m just so happy,” Anakin says, lifting his head, beaming up at Obi-Wan, sheer delight filling his heart. Obi-Wan smiles and pulls the bedspread back before beckoning to him.

“Come lie with me,” Obi-Wan says, climbing into bed as Anakin crawls over to him and slides under the blankets beside him, snuggling up against him.

“Hold me,” Anakin says simply, still slightly unsure in the face of this new development.

“It would be my pleasure,” Obi-Wan says, wrapping his arms around Anakin and pulling him closer. Anakin sighs, finally in the embrace of one whom he adores.

“I like this. I like this a lot,” Anakin says, nestling into Obi-Wan’s arms and exhaling, all the tension in his body bleeding out of him slowly, his breathing steady as he tries not to focus too closely on the lack of space between him and Obi-Wan, the way both their hearts would be beating together, were Obi-Wan’s not forever silenced.

“I like this too. Tell me, is this everything you wished it would be?” Obi-Wan asks, and his voice sounds as if he’s full of a hope so tender, it may be snuffed out at the slightest hint of despair. Anakin smiles.

“Everything and more. You’re everything I want, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, snuggling even closer, sensing as Obi-Wan relaxes against him, holds him just a little tighter, as carefully as though he might break and as tightly as if he might escape.

“Are you tired, Anakin? You did originally intend to return to your quarters to rest, though it will be nightfall soon,” Obi-Wan says, his voice rumbling through his chest.

“I am, though now I don’t want to sleep. Everything is so new,” Anakin says, but his eyelids droop, and he finds himself wanting to slip into sleep's welcoming arms. He feels Obi-Wan chuckle against him, hears the pleasant warmth of it filling the room.

“You’re tired, my dear. I will be here when you wake.” And as Obi-Wan speaks, Anakin thinks of one last thing he wants from this moment, one final request he will make.

“Kiss me, Obi-Wan. Like that night in the garden. Kiss me before I sleep,” Anakin says, his confidence blooming in the face of Obi-Wan’s acceptance. He looks up at Obi-Wan, and Obi-Wan is already reaching a hand out to cradle his cheek, brushing his thumb against Anakin’s bottom lip.

“How strange, that you should ask for such a little thing, when I would give you the _world_ ,” Obi-Wan says, and then he presses his lips to Anakin’s, cool and perfect. Anakin lets his eyes fall shut as he basks in the feeling of Obi-Wan’s mouth against his, sighs, parts his lips as an invitation. And Obi-Wan accepts.

Anakin feels Obi-Wan’s tongue swipe across his lips before gently sliding into his mouth, Anakin so absolutely happy his path has led this way, Obi-Wan cupping his face a little more tightly as their tongues slide together. 

“Mmm…” Anakin moans, trailing off into silence to listen to Obi-Wan’s answering sound, a soft groan that has already lodged itself in Anakin’s mind for eternity. They slowly break apart, gazing into each other’s eyes as Anakin realizes the new weight this gesture holds.

“Obi-Wan—“

“Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, interrupting him in the sweetest manner. “You’re tired. We may speak more later. For now, rest, you, who are most dear to me.” And as Obi-Wan speaks, Anakin settles back down against him, yawning as sleep begins to creep through his mind and body.

“You’ll be here when I wake?” Anakin asks, hopeful.

“Anakin, I can think of no place I’d rather be. Of course I will be here. Now sleep,” Obi-Wan says, and even as he speaks, Anakin feels the warmth of satisfaction and tender affection bloom in his chest, and he heeds Obi-Wan’s suggestion. He sleeps.

\---

September 1, 1522

“So, you love me?” Anakin asks as they walk towards the fireplace, almost giggling with the force of his joy, turning to look at Obi-Wan as Obi-Wan turns to look at him.

“I do, and like you, I should have said so sooner, as I’ve been courting you for a time now. I just didn’t want to rush you,” Obi-Wan says, and he gestures to one of the chairs near the fireplace.

“You know I enjoy sitting on the floor. And _I_ didnt want to rush _you_ , Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, the two of them sitting down beside each other in front of the hearth, a small fire burning before them.

“However we arrived here, I’m happy we did,” Obi-Wan says, and he places his hand on Anakin’s knee. The touch sends sparks of warmth through Anakin’s soul, sweet and bright and wonderful, and Anakin does nothing to discourage them this time. He knows what he wants from this night. He turns and leans backwards slowly, balancing on his hands until he’s lying on his back, his head against the rug by the fireplace. 

“Anakin, what are you doing?” Obi-Wan says, his voice tinted with equal parts confusion and amusement.

“I’m resting,” Anakin says, and he feels Obi-Wan grip his ankles, pushing his legs down against the ground.

“Good, you need your rest,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin chuckles as he tries to lift his legs from the floor.

“Oh no you don’t,” Obi-Wan says, teasing, and then suddenly, Anakin is looking up at Obi-Wan, who is now straddling his hips, a hand on either one of Anakin’s wrists, leaning in to whisper to him.

“You’re not going _anywhere_ ,” Obi-Wan purrs, and Anakin shudders, feeling heat pool in his stomach and between his legs. 

“Oh _fuck_ yes, _hold me_ _down_ ,” Anakin blurts out, realizing what he’s said the moment after he says it, feeling a blush flood to his cheeks as he sees Obi-Wan’s eyes widen.

“Hold you down? That’s what you want? Tell me what you want, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, leaning in a bit closer, grinding his hips down against his. Anakin arches into the touch, pushing his hips up towards Obi-Wan.

“Yes, _yes_. Oh god that feels so good already. Obi-Wan, I’ve waited so long. Kiss my neck, please. I want your fangs on me,” Anakin says, completely unsurprised by his own boldness and feeling more confident than ever. Obi-Wan leans down, releasing Anakin’s wrists to reach one hand around the back of Anakin’s neck, bracing himself against the floor with the other.

When Obi-Wan’s cool lips brush against Anakin’s throat, Anakin loses all sense of control he’d been clinging to like a rope above stormy water, thrusting his hips upward, his cock already hard in his pants, desperate for friction as Obi-Wan opens his mouth and scrapes his fangs across Anakin’s skin.

“God that’s good, Obi-Wan don’t stop. I need you. I need you now,” Anakin says, and he lifts his arms, running his hands over Obi-Wan’s all too clothed body, hungry, searching, needing something more. Obi-Wan is moving down against him, hips moving down to meet his upward grind as if they were made to fit together.

“I won’t stop. I’m here,” Obi-Wan murmurs against Anakin’s neck, his beard tickling Anakin’s skin as he returns to placing open-mouthed kisses down the side of his neck, making him shudder, increasing the pressure, starting to suck a mark on his throat, Anakin’s heart rate increasing as he feels his cock leaking into his pants, his hands now roaming underneath Obi-Wan’s shirt, feeling skin stretched over compact muscle.

“I need it, I _want you_. I don’t want this to stop,” Anakin says, hearing desire drip through his voice as his grip on Obi-Wan tightens.

“What do you want from tonight, my wild rose? From me?” Obi-Wan whispers, his lips dragging against Anakin’s skin before ever so gently biting down, his fangs not puncturing, not ripping, but _caressing_ as he lavishes attention on Anakin’s body. Anakin feels clarity rush through him, knowing exactly what he wants.

“I want you to take me, to _fuck_ me. You say you love me. Show me all the ways you do,” Anakin says, and he feels his body arching up to meet Obi-Wan again, the two of them moving together on the hard floor.

“Mmm, I might be able to arrange that for you,” Obi-Wan says, not moving from his position atop Anakin.

“Nobody, Obi-Wan. _Nobody_ has made me this way,” Anakin says, wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan’s shoulders and tightening his grip.

“Likewise, Anakin. Let me take you to my bed,” Obi-Wan says, rising a little to look into Anakin’s eyes. Anakin shakes his head firmly.

“No, I can’t wait. Take me here, _now_. I’m comfortable enough,” Anakin says, pulling Obi-Wan down for a kiss. But Obi-Wan only smiles against his lips before pulling away again, Anakin whining at the loss of contact.

“Don’t be silly. I need to _properly prepare you_ ,” Obi-Wan purrs, and white-hot need spikes through Anakin as he pushes his hips upwards again, desperate for Obi-Wan’s touch.

“Okay, okay. I know. Let’s go now, then,” Anakin says, already trying to get up, Obi-Wan pushing a hand against his chest to stop him, the weight and force of it deliciously frustrating, and Anakin whimpers.

“You do need it, don’t you, my little rose? I do too. But relax, take things a little slower for me, alright? I want to enjoy you tonight,” Obi-Wan says, his voice rich and sultry, a warm sunshower on a summer’s day. Anakin nods, and Obi-Wan climbs off of him, standing as Anakin sits up. Obi-Wan extends a hand to him, and Anakin takes it, hauling himself up. Not even a moment passes once he is on his feet before Obi-Wan is scooping him up into his arms, Obi-Wan a solid presence around him, holding him tight as he reaches to wrap his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck, laughing softly even in his need.

“What are you doing?” Anakin asks through his laughter, Obi-Wan already walking towards the doorway, his footsteps as light as if he were carrying nothing.

“Why, I’m taking my beloved to bed. Surely you wouldn’t begrudge me that small luxury,” Obi-Wan says, the two of them passing through the doorway and into the corridor, the noise in Anakin’s head having long turned to an all too pleasant hum of desire and adoration.

“I would never. Take me to bed, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says, tightening his arms around Obi-Wan’s neck, all sense of the world outside gone from him, the only two beings in existence being him and Obi-Wan, walking through the dim corridors of an otherwise empty castle.

“Would you like to know something?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin nods, his curiosity growing within him like a spring blossom under the tender care of a most merciful gardener.

“I’ve been places you couldn’t even imagine. I’ve seen people you will never know, and I’ve seen the world change many times over. But, my dearest Anakin, I’ve known no love like yours. So allow me to take my time with you tonight. I do not want to squander that which is so sacred,” Obi-Wan says, and he holds Anakin a bit tighter, as if he were carrying him over hot coals rather than a cool stone floor.

“Would _you_ like to know something?” Anakin says, feeling anticipation surging through him as they near Obi-Wan’s quarters. Obi-Wan smiles.

“I would love to,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin swallows to clear his voice before speaking.

“I have not seen the things you have. I have not known many people as you have. Not much has happened in my life. But I know as long as you are in my world, it is beautiful,” Anakin says, looking at Obi-Wan, feeling the strength of the arms that carry him, and hoping his sentiment will ring true to Obi-Wan.

“Anakin, you offer me that which I do not deserve, but I accept it nonetheless,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin thinks if love could have a sound, could be heard by the human ear, it would sound like Obi-Wan’s voice in this moment, as they reach the door to his quarters.

Obi-Wan gently sets him down, kissing his cheek softly before reaching for the door.

“Are you sure this is what you want from me? Do not think I will resent you if you need more time,” Obi-Wan says, gazing at Anakin, his eyes searching, as if to dig out flickers of indecision within Anakin’s stare. Anakin smiles, almost bursting at the seams with his excitement, grabbing Obi-Wan’s arm.

“Obi-Wan, if I could show you how much I want this within my heart, I would. But I will tell you. Yes, I want this. I want _you_. I want this. Now. Take your time, but do not think I feel pressured into anything,” Anakin says, squeezing Obi-Wan’s arm gently. Obi-Wan looks down at Anakin’s hand, then up into his eyes, his gaze heated with the embers of desire.

“Well then, here we are,” Obi-Wan says, and he swings the door open in one fluid motion, Anakin gulping as he sees the huge bed, heat pooling between his legs again as he thinks of everything Obi-Wan will likely do to him tonight. 

“Here we are,” Anakin says, releasing Obi-Wan’s arm and walking slowly into the room, spinning around to face Obi-Wan and beckon to him, grinning as he walks backwards towards the bed, knowing the room far too well by now. Obi-Wan shakes his head as he walks into the room and shuts the door, but there is a warm smile on his face, turning his features into something that makes Anakin’s grin widen as he sits on the bed.

“Come here. I want you,” Anakin demands, and Obi-Wan strides towards him, all the confidence in the world twined with vulnerability written on Obi-Wan’s face as clear as day.

“I want _you_ ,” Obi-Wan says. “I would never deny that simple truth,” Obi-Wan says, watching as Anakin hurriedly removes his boots and tosses them aside, the thunk of leather against stone barely registering in his mind as he watches Obi-Wan shed his boots as well. Obi-Wan brings his hands to his chest and begins unlacing his shirt, but Anakin stands, shaking his head.

“Let me. I want to undress you, and I want you to undress me,” Anakin says, placing his hands over Obi-Wan’s, pushing them away. Obi-Wan gazes into Anakin’s eyes as Anakin begins to unlace his shirt, his movements deliberate and insistent, yet careful. He methodically unlaces the front of Obi-Wan’s shirt before pulling it over his head, throwing it aside, Obi-Wan not even glancing at the carelessness of the action, left in his undershirt and pants.

“You’re perfect, dear one,” Obi-Wan says. “Let me help you, too.” And Anakin lets his arms go limp as Obi-Wan begins to unlace his shirt, pulling it over his head and leaving Anakin feeling already naked under Obi-Wan’s eyes, but he welcomes the feeling of exposure, leaning into it just as he leans into Obi-Wan’s touch. Before he knows it, his undershirt has been pulled from him as well, and he stands before Obi-Wan in only his pants, Obi-Wan leaning in to kiss his shoulder.

“ _Obi-Wan_ —”

“Let me take care of you,” Obi-Wan says, his hands toying with the waist of Anakin’s pants as he kisses up the side of Anakin’s neck, Anakin wrapping his arms around Obi-Wan’s waist, his cock coaxed to hardness again by Obi-Wan’s actions, his veins alight with excitement.

“ _Oh_ , I can’t wait for you to fuck me. But this is nice,” Anakin admits, finding himself growing addicted to the feeling of Obi-Wan’s teasing, the almost satisfaction he keeps receiving winding him up inside into something he knows will be all too powerful when released.

“Mmm, you’re lovely like this, almost bare for me, already so needy. Just relax; I have you,” Obi-Wan says, his fangs grazing the skin of Anakin’s shoulder as he finishes speaking, Anakin shivering at the perfection of the all too light touch.

“You’re still dressed,” Anakin says, his hands lifting the hem of Obi-Wan’s undershirt, his motions restless. Obi-Wan chuckles.

“You are eager, aren’t you? So eager to take it,” Obi-Wan says, his lips against Anakin’s neck. “You are divine, Anakin, but you’re no saint. And how I adore you for it. I’ll give you what you want.” And Obi-Wan lifts his arms so Anakin can pull his undershirt over his head, Anakin marveling at Obi-Wan’s perfectly muscled stomach and chest, each inch of skin revealed a delicious fuel to his anticipation.

“Let me help you finish,” Anakin demands, kneeling before Obi-Wan and pulling at his pants, looking up at him with eyes that he knows demand and plead at the same time. Obi-Wan reaches down to ruffle his hair.

“Look at this: my wild rose on his knees for me, as if he’s not the one who should be served. Do what you’d like, Anakin. I would never want to see you do anything else,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin nuzzles his face up against him, dragging Obi-Wan’s pants down slowly, savoring the moments in which this happens for the first time, knowing he will cherish this memory within his heart. Obi-Wan’s cock springs free, Anakin’s eyes widening as it does, his lips parting in excitement.

“It’s so _big_. So perfect, just like I knew it would be,” Anakin says, before pressing a kiss to the head of it, reaching his right hand out to stroke the base of it.

“ _Anakin_ —”

“Oh _god_ , you’re going to fuck me. Your cock is going to be inside me. _Fuck_ , I can’t wait. But first I’m gonna make you feel _so good_ ,” Anakin says, interrupting and not caring that he’s done so, licking the slit before taking the head of it into his mouth, moaning around it as he feels the weight of it on his tongue, tastes a musky flavor that is so distinctly _Obi-Wan_ , resists the urge to take the whole length into his mouth.

“Oh, _Anakin_ , you are _so good_ ,” Obi-Wan says, and the praise shoots straight through Anakin with the accuracy of a perfectly balanced arrow, precum leaving a small wet spot on the front of his pants as he moans again before pulling off, already panting as if he’d run miles.

“ _Obi-Wan_ , I love this. Mmm, I want to _choke_ on it,” Anakin says, before acting rashly and attempting to take the length of it into his mouth at once, feeling his throat close up and a gag threaten to send him into a coughing fit. He pulls off of Obi-Wan quickly, looking up at him with tears in his eyes as he coughs once, the discomfort overshadowed by the sheer _pleasure_ he feels at having been overwhelmed in this way.

“Careful, my wild rose. Try again,” Obi-Wan instructs, threading his fingers through Anakin’s curls as Anakin nods and brings his parted lips to the head of Obi-Wan’s cock, luxuriating in the feeling of _almost_ having what he so badly wants, hearing Obi-Wan’s soft breath above him, feeling the tiny sparks of pain in his scalp as Obi-Wan’s grip in his hair tightens.

“You’re going to like this,” Anakin says, keeping eye contact with Obi-Wan as he takes his cock into his mouth slowly, moving at a measured pace and keeping his breathing steady as he takes more and more of it into his mouth, inch by inch, until his nose is touching the curls at the base of it and he’s breathing in and feeling it touching the back of his throat.

“Anakin, you—”

But Anakin swallows around Obi-Wan’s length, and Obi-Wan’s grip in his hair tightens even more as he cries out sharply into the air of the room, something that sounds like it could be Anakin’s name. Anakin keeps working, slowly beginning to bob his head as he maintains eye contact with Obi-Wan, his stomach coiling into want and tension, need for what is to come.

“ _Perfect_. You love this, don’t you? Love being on your knees for me, worshiping as you should be worshiped,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin hums softly, spit dripping from his lips as he moves, using his hand to stroke what he doesn’t reach, so in love with the experience of being close to Obi-Wan in this way, his desire braiding through his soul into the very fibers of what make him Anakin.

“Step out of your pants,” Anakin says as he pulls off, still stroking Obi-Wan with one hand. “I want more.” 

“Still so eager. How would you like me to have some fun with you?” Obi-Wan says, stroking Anakin’s hair. “Let me make this special for you.” Anakin smiles up at him, standing so he can shed his own pants as Obi-Wan pulls his off as well. Anakin feels Obi-Wan’s eyes on him, raking up and down, yet caressing as they go.

“Come with me. Then we can have fun,” Anakin instructs as he climbs on the bed and reclines against the pillows, languidly stroking his hard cock, beckoning to Obi-Wan with the finger of his free hand as he gasps a little at the sensation. Obi-Wan, seemingly intent on making the moment last, walks slowly towards him, stopping at the table by the side of his bed to grab the vial of lubricant sitting underneath it. Anakin’s eyes widen and his breath quickens as Obi-Wan climbs on the bed.

“You look like you could use some attention, my wild rose,” Obi-Wan says, kneeling between Anakin’s legs and placing a hand on his knee in encouragement. “Open up for me, just a bit more.”

“I’ve wanted this for _so long,”_ Anakin says, spreading his legs a little more, ready for Obi-Wan to slide his hand between them. But Obi-Wan only ducks his head down, Anakin realizing exactly what’s happening as soon as Obi-Wan’s tongue is on him, swirling around his rim, prodding at his entrance. 

“Oh _god_ , Obi-Wan, that’s so good. I need it; I—I need to feel you,” Anakin says, and no sooner do the words leave his mouth than Obi-Wan’s hands are on his thighs, spreading him even wider, forcing his legs apart and holding them open as he licks into him, the strength of his body evident in the firmness of his hold, Anakin squirming a little as he’s held in place.

Anakin wishes he could form coherent words, words that would pour from his mouth in perfect order and alert Obi-Wan to exactly how he feels. But all he can do is whine, grinding against Obi-Wan’s mouth as Obi-Wan’s tongue slides in and out of him, wet and perfect.

“Mmm, fuck me with your tongue. That’s good,” Anakin says, and he jolts a bit as Obi-Wan sucks on his rim, the feeling of it almost all too much to bear, Anakin knowing he won’t come yet, won’t slip over that edge, allowing himself to simply enjoy what Obi-Wan is doing to him.

“A little bit faster, please, Obi-Wan. Just a bit—ah! Yes, just like that,” Anakin says, reaching a hand down to thread his fingers through Obi-Wan’s hair, tugging slightly. Obi-Wan halts his ministrations, looking up at Anakin with a satisfied smile on his face, his lips pink and slick.

“Mmm, you like that, don’t you?” Obi-Wan asks, reaching a hand down, petting Anakin’s rim with two fingers. Teasing, just barely touching, but promising so much more, Anakin tilting his head upwards, his eyes rolling back in his head as he moans, high pitched and needy.

“Oh, I need you inside me. Your fingers—I need your fingers,” Anakin says, tilting his head back down to look at Obi-Wan again, squirming a little, arching as much as he can into the slight pressure on his rim, the aching need to be filled growing within him. Obi-Wan withdraws his hand, picking up the vial of lubricant from where it sits on the bedspread. He opens it, slicking up his fingers.

“You need it so badly. I can’t wait to see how much you want my cock,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin all but growls, reaching out and grabbing Obi-Wan’s wrist, pulling it between his spread legs.

“Don’t start talking about your cock right now, god, I _need it_. Touch me, open me up for you. It’s going to be so _good_ ,” Anakin says, watching in satisfaction as Obi-Wan’s expression turns to one of slight awe. 

“I’ll give you what you need. I’ll get you nice and ready to take it. Just hold still for me,” Obi-Wan says, bringing the tip of one finger to Anakin’s entrance, Anakin’s grip on his wrist faltering a bit, his coherence a wall of loose sand before a great tidal wave. Anakin nods, releasing Obi-Wan’s wrist, leaning back against the pillows again.

“Touch me, Obi-Wan,” Anakin says simply, and Obi-Wan smiles as he slides one finger inside him, Anakin gasping at the sudden intrusion, yet welcoming it as if it were all meant to happen exactly this way. And perhaps it is. 

“Like that, my wild rose?” Obi-Wan asks, slowly moving his finger in and out. Anakin grips at the bedspread, afraid he may actually rip the fabric in his excitement that mounts within him like a brilliant summer storm.

“ _Fuck_ , it’s so good. I can’t wait for your cock. I want you to fuck me on my back, then maybe I can climb on top of you and _ride you_ , really take it. God, I can’t wait to be bouncing up and down on your cock—“ Anakin says, cut off by Obi-Wan’s words.

“Anakin, slow down. Let me take my time. I promise you’ll have what you need. For now, enjoy this. Would you like more?” Obi-Wan asks and Anakin feels the tip of a second finger at his entrance. He moans at the feeling of anticipation in his gut, barely able to form words for a moment.

“Yes, _yes_ , I want more. I want you to open me up, get me all nice and stretched for you,” Anakin says, grinding down as a second finger breaches him, thinking that perhaps he should feel more nervous, shyer, more timid in this moment.

“Something on your mind?” Obi-Wan says, his face slightly playful but his gaze searching.

“Do you wish I was more—less—different—more demure, I suppose, for this first time? Because I’m not,” Anakin says, wondering what’s going through Obi-Wan’s all too perceptive mind. Obi-Wan chuckles and punctuates the sound by spreading his fingers apart, Anakin gasping as he does so.

“Anakin, you are passion in its purest form. Why should we try to deny the truth? I’d be appalled if you thought that’s what I wanted from you. Now, put aside any ideas about what you think you _should_ be. Show me how you love me as you are.” 

Anakin grins, his one worry dissipating like smoke in the face of a gust of wind, his body feeling more pliant than ever, open and receptive to everything Obi-Wan has to offer, feeling Obi-Wan’s two fingers moving within him at a measured pace, Obi-Wan keenly watching Anakin’s face.

“Mmm, that’s nice. I want more. Keep going,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan slides a third finger inside him alongside the first two, one hand stroking Anakin’s thigh in soothing motions as his hand movies.

“You’re almost ready for me, aren’t you?” Obi-Wan says, sounding as if his excitement is about to burst through the roof of his self control. 

“You could probably take me now, make me _scream_ when you start fucking me. Hold me down so you can push your cock into me deeper and deeper—“ Anakin begins.

“Perhaps another time. I intend to enjoy you thoroughly tonight, and if I make you scream, it will not be from pain,” Obi-Wan says, pumping his fingers in and out of him, Anakin huffing as Obi-Wan places a gentle kiss to his thigh, his fangs grazing over the sensitive skin as he nips at him. Anakin narrows his eyes at Obi-Wan.

“I hope you’re not going to treat me like a virgin made of glass. I’m not that delicate, you know,” Anakin says, and Obi-Wan laughs as he withdraws his fingers, picking up the lubricant to slick up his cock.

“I have every intention of giving you _exactly_ what you need,” Obi-Wan says, and suddenly he’s pushing a hand against Anakin’s chest, pushing him back deeper against the pillows before kissing up the side of his neck, his cool lips soft against Anakin’s skin.

“ _Fuck_ , we’re really going to do this, aren’t we?” Anakin says, feeling Obi-Wan’s cock lining up with his entrance. Obi-Wan kisses his cheek.

“Only if you still want it,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin huffs out a laugh before pushing down against Obi-Wan.

“ _Yes_ , I’ve never wanted this from someone so _much_. I need it,” Anakin says. “But do what you said. Go slow. I want to feel how big it is inside me.” 

And then Obi-Wan is sliding the head of his cock inside him, Anakin writhing slightly on the bed, gripping Obi-Wan’s shoulders, panting at the feeling of being so exquisitely _full_ already. 

“Beautiful…” Obi-Wan trails off, gazing into Anakin’s eyes as if Anakin were the first lovely thing he had ever seen. “You already take it so well.”

“Just wait til I’m on top; maybe I’ll make you come inside me and then lick it off your cock until you’re hard for me again and you can fuck me with your cum already inside me, making me so wet. I can’t wait for your _cum_ , Obi-Wan. Can’t wait to have it on me, in me—oh, thinking about it is making me so _hard_. I’m so hard for you—it almost hurts but it’s so _good_. Fuck—I can’t wait to come for you, but not yet. First I’m gonna play with you, show you exactly what I like. I’ll take your cock better than anyone else—can you feel how tight I am around you? Mmm, I can’t wait to fuck myself on you,” Anakin says, feeling words bubble up through him and past his lips as if they lead lives of their own.

“I’m here, Anakin. We’ll have all the time you want for that,” Obi-Wan says, slowly sliding more of his cock inside Anakin, Anakin reveling in how intense the feeling is, how much he’s experiencing all at once.

“You’re almost there. Come on, fuck me,” Anakin says, and he feels as Obi-Wan slides the rest of the way inside him, digging his nails into Obi-Wan’s shoulders as it happens, gasping in equal parts relief and excitement.

“Oh, _Anakin_ , how perfect you are,” Obi-Wan sighs, experimentally thrusting within him. Anakin arches his back, grinding down against Obi-Wan as he cries out, the sound sharp and warm and perfect within the little sphere of their existence.

“Obi-Wan! _Oh_ , that’s so good. Mmm, _fuck me_. I’ve wanted this for so long. _Give it to me_ , Obi-Wan. I want to remember tonight. God, I’m already dripping for you,” Anakin says, and he sees Obi-Wan’s eyes light up with the new wisdom of an idea. Obi-Wan reaches one hand between Anakin’s legs, his hand toying with the tip of his cock as he smears his fingers through the precum there, Anakin letting his eyes fall shut as he savors the feeling of being fucked and touched.

Obi-Wan brings his fingers to Anakin’s lips. “Clean them for me, dear one,” he says, and Anakin’s eyes shoot open as he reaches a hand to grip Obi-Wan’s wrist, his tongue poking out to taste himself on Obi-Wan’s fingertips as Obi-Wan fucks into him.

“ _Perfect._ Mmm…” Anakin trails off as he licks between Obi-Wan’s fingers, the taste of himself only serves to arouse him further, the feel of Obi-Wan’s cock inside him so divine.

“There’s my little rose. You’re so good,” Obi-Wan says, pulling his hand away. Anakin whines wordlessly at the loss, pushing up against Obi-Wan with his hips, little flashes of pleasure building upon each other as Obi-Wan moves within him.

“This is _exactly_ what I wanted. _Thank you_ ,” Anakin says, his arms reaching around Obi-Wan’s neck and squeezing slightly as Obi-Wan gasps above him.

“You’re so _warm_ ,” Obi-Wan says, thrusting hard into Anakin as if to punctuate his sentence. “You threaten to undo me.” Anakin smiles at Obi-Wan’s words, though he is already feeling somewhat hazy, floating through a pool of satisfaction rippled with need as he and Obi-Wan move with each other.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Anakin teases, his mind a whirlwind of almost disbelief that this is finally happening, Obi-Wan’s crimson irises looking down at him, Obi-Wan moving inside him, pushing so _deep_ , just as they both have needed for so long.

“And it won’t be the last, my love,” Obi-Wan says,” his face relaxing into a state of pleasure as Anakin grips him tighter. “It will _always_ be you.”

“And it will always be _you_ , Obi-Wan. I’m so happy, so good, so perfect—” Anakin says, halting his speech abruptly as a moan breaks free from his lips, soft and breathy, traveling through the air between him and Obi-Wan like a promise of even greater things to come.

“You’re more than perfect. You are _sacred_. I’ve waited so long to watch you come undone under my hand, to see how your eyes gaze at me as I give you what you need,” Obi-Wan says, his cock moving in and out of Anakin at a moderate pace, the motion of it slick and easy, Anakin feeling his body clinging to Obi-Wan’s as if reluctant to release him, even for a moment. Anakin’s eyes flutter shut at the delicious pressure of it, the knowledge that he and Obi-Wan are finally close in this way he has pined after for so long.

“I’ll tell you what I need. I need you to go faster, to hold me down as you fuck me. I want to feel how you could break me if you wanted,” Anakin breathes, opening his eyes and releasing Obi-Wan’s neck, bringing his arms down to rest against the bedspread. Obi-Wan’s eyes widen a bit, and then he places a hand on Anakin’s chest, slightly pushing down.

“Like this, my darling?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin feels breath pulled from his lungs as the pressure increases, his mind going pliant to Obi-Wan’s power over him, the very clear knowledge of Obi-Wan’s strength evident to him as Obi-Wan grips his shoulder with his other hand, the muscles of his arms moving beneath his skin as he places both hands on Anakin’s shoulders, holding him down as if he might run.

“ _Yes_ , oh fuck, just like that,” Anakin says, experimentally attempting to sit up, only to be met with pressure downwards that prevents his escape. He falls back against the bed, moaning as Obi-Wan thrusts into him faster, harder, deeper, Anakin’s hands scrabbling at the fabric for purchase, having known nothing quite like this before, this sublime feeling of being _held_ , held as if he’s trying to break free. Obi-Wan gazes down at him, a small smile on his face.

“If I’d known that’s all it takes to get you to behave, I would have attempted it sooner,” Obi-Wan says, his tone laced with self satisfaction. Something twists within Anakin’s psyche, something tempting and delectable, and he grins up at Obi-Wan.

“If you think I’m going to _behave_ , then you’re going to be disappointed. I have you exactly where I want you,” Anakin says, pushing his hips up against Obi-Wan’s, his body already attuning to the way Obi-Wan moves.

“If I’m exactly where you want me, then I am exactly where I want to be,” Obi-Wan says, before releasing Anakin’s shoulders and wrapping a hand around the back of his neck, suddenly pressing their parted lips together as Anakin surges up to meet him, their tongues already twining together in perfect coordination, Obi-Wan’s cool mouth meeting Anakin’s warmth, Anakin’s tongue running over his fangs, exploring, learning, luxuriating in Obi-Wan’s presence.

When they break apart, both panting, new need spirals through Anakin, a desire to show Obi-Wan exactly what this means to him, leaning up to plant a chaste kiss to Obi-Wan’s lips before speaking again.

“I want to ride you. I want to be on top of you,” Anakin says, his voice breathy and demanding. Obi-Wan smiles down at him before thrusting once more.

“Your wish is my command,” Obi-Wan says, gently pressing a soft kiss to Anakin’s forehead before pulling out of him and climbing off him, Anakin sitting up as they rearrange themselves on the bed. Obi-Wan reclines against the pillows, beckoning to Anakin. Anakin straddles his hips and hovers above Obi-Wan’s cock, the desire to savor the moment permeating through him. After what feels like ages, he sinks down a bit, the head of Obi-Wan’s cock entering him, that initial penetration absolutely _divine_ in its intensity.

“Oh _fuck_ , it’s so big. I can really feel you this way. And I’m gonna take my time with you now. I want you to know exactly how good it feels to fuck me,” Anakin promises, the depth of his adoration for Obi-Wan slinking out of his heart and into the very sound of his voice.

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Obi-Wan asks, reaching his hands out to gently grip Anakin’s hips, Anakin slowly sinking down and sighing, his breath pulled from him into the air between them.

“Mmm, yes, I have. You’re in for a treat. I’m going to ride you until you can’t speak, until all you know is my body,” Anakin says, grinding down as he bottoms out, his jaw falling slack, mouth hanging open at the sensation of fullness inside him, everything he’s wanted for so long.

“Anakin, knowing all of you is everything I could ever ask for,” Obi-Wan says, rubbing his thumbs over Anakin’s skin as Anakin lifts himself up, Anakin feeling pleasure coil in his lower stomach at this new angle.

“You’ll know me, Obi-Wan. I’m going to _ruin you_ for everyone else. If I live and die and you find someone else, you’ll always have my name in your throat when you cry out. That human you once knew,” Anakin says, a cold type of sadness seeping through him even as he moves back down atop Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan grips his hips tightly now.

“Anakin, you truly are a fool if you think I will _ever_ know anyone else in the way I know you. I do not intend on losing you,” Obi-Wan says. “I do not yet know what to call you, or what exactly you are, but I will not abandon you or force you away.”

“You mean you’ll turn me one day?” Anakin asks, lifting himself up again, adjusting into a slow, measured pace.

“If that is what you wish. But not tonight, my wild rose. Tonight, let us enjoy your fragile humanity. Though it seems you are set on breaking _me_ tonight,” Obi-Wan says, and he chuckles as he strokes Anakin’s skin, but the sound of it is ever so slightly strained.

“Mhm, you’ll be begging by the time I’m done with you. You’ll see,” Anakin says, grinding against Obi-Wan’s hips again, his pace still slow, languid, even.

“Anakin, I do not beg,” Obi-Wan states, and his eyes are alight with a kind of challenge that Anakin rushes forward to meet.

“You will for me. You’ll feel me, so tight and slick and warm around your cock, moaning your name but not moving quite fast _enough_ , and you’ll need it so badly, but I won’t let you have what you want until you’re gasping my name. You may not let the world see you beg, but I will know what it means to have you pleading,” Anakin says. “Watch me.” And he lifts himself up and then back down again, moving at a faster pace.

“ _Anakin_ —”

“Mmm, you like that, don’t you? Your little human giving you what you’ve wanted all this time. How does it feel?” Anakin asks, moving up and down as he reaches his hands down to place them on top of Obi-Wan’s on his hips. 

“It feels perfect. You feel perfect, my wild rose. You’re everything I could want,” Obi-Wan says, his voice sounding far too even for Anakin’s liking. Anakin squeezes his hands on his hips.

“You like holding me like this, hm? Like I’m going to leave if you let go? I won’t leave, Obi-Wan. I wouldn’t lie to you. Oh, it feels so good. Makes me want to make myself feel even better,” Anakin says, and he reaches a hand up to brush his fingertips across one of his nipples, his motions stuttering a bit as the force of sensation hits him, the tingling running throughout his body as he touches himself.

“You are _gorgeous_ ,” Obi-Wan says. “I was not wrong to think you were divine.” And Obi-Wan squeezes Anakin’s hips tighter, making Anakin gasp.

“Mmm, so that’s what you like? Having your hips touched? How could I ever deny you?” Obi-Wan says, holding Anakin tighter as Anakin arches his back, the motion pushing him into a new angle, Obi-Wan’s cock brushing up against that perfect spot inside him, sending sparks of something like pure lightning up his spine.

“Oh _god,_ that’s so nice, feels so _good_. I can’t wait to come on your cock, come all over you while you hold me steady. You’ll have to hold me tight; I get shaky. At least, I do when it’s good,” Anakin says, smirking down at Obi-Wan, the depth to which he has fallen into devotion all too obvious to him.

“I assure you, I’ll have to hold you tighter than you’ve ever been held. But I thought you wanted to take your time with me. I’m not begging yet,” Obi-Wan says, and at that moment, Anakin pushes against his hips and clenches down around him, the pressure all of a sudden almost too great to bear.

“Oh, _Anakin_ ,” Obi-Wan moans, his grip tightening even more, to the point of bruising. Anakin chuckles breathily.

“Thought you’d like that. I’m so _tight_ around you. Mmm, let’s see what happens if I have some fun,” Anakin says, and he slowly lifts himself off of Obi-Wan, reaching down to grip Obi-Wan’s cock and hold the tip of it against his stretched entrance, pushing against it ever so slightly, not nearly enough to slide inside again. Obi-Wan gasps.

“Anakin, don’t be silly. We both know how much you want this,” Obi-Wan says, his hands restless, as if itching to push Anakin back onto him. Anakin sinks down a little, slowly, the head of Obi-Wan’s cock sliding past his rim, before lifting back up again.

“Oh, I want this. I’m just having fun. If you’re nice, I’ll ride you again. For now, I think maybe I’ll just play around,” Anakin says, sinking down ever so slowly again, the head of Obi-Wan’s cock barely going inside him, that first push of pressure over and over again absolutely delightful, the perfect tease.

“What do you need, Anakin?” Obi-Wan asks, sounding wrung out and tense. Anakin laughs softly.

“I want your cock inside me again. But I want you to ask nicely. Say _please_ ,” Anakin says, letting his voice linger on the last word of his sentence as if it were something precious he could barely stand to release. 

“You’re very sure for a human cavorting with a vampire,” Obi-Wan teases, but there is no real zeal to the statement, as if he’s trying desperately to cover need with something requiring less vulnerability.

“You’re very stubborn for someone who has the chance to fuck me,” Anakin says, hovering over Obi-Wan’s cock, waiting for Obi-Wan to give in to what they both know he wants. Anakin sinks down just the slightest bit before lifting up again, Obi-Wan gasping softly.

“Very well. Please, Anakin,” Obi-Wan says, and no sooner do the words leave his mouth than Anakin is moving again, sitting on his cock in one fluid motion, hissing at the sudden pressure.

“Was that so hard?” Anakin coos, starting up a pace faster than before, rubbing the tips of his fingers over one of his nipples, the feeling of it all too fleeting, like a pleasant scent on a spring breeze. Obi-Wan rolls his eyes, but the tightness of his grip on Anakin’s hips betrays him, indicates that he is steadily nearing that edge.

“You ask for much, my wild rose,” Obi-Wan says as Anakin moves, his hands slightly shaking as he holds him. Anakin smiles.

“Are you going to come inside me tonight? Get me all wet and dripping? I can’t wait to feel it drip out of me,” Anakin moans, no longer able to keep his pace measured, bouncing up and down as though his life depends on it, reaching down to grip his cock firmly, squeezing to keep his arousal at bay.

“ _Anakin_ , you can’t just say things like that now,” Obi-Wan says, and it’s almost a whine, the way his words leave his lips and he thrusts his hips upwards to meet Anakin’s movements, Anakin clenching down on him again.

“Mmm, do you like that? I know you do,” Anakin says as Obi-Wan gasps. “I like the way my name sounds when you say it that way. Say it again for me.” 

“ _Anakin_ ,” Obi-Wan says, not even putting up an argument, his head falling back against the pillows as Anakin keeps moving atop him, increasing his pace, moving as if nothing else matters in the universe but him and Obi-Wan and the way they meet each other.

“Good, oh god, you’re being so good for me. I want to come on you, show you how good you’re making me feel,” Anakin says, releasing his cock and watching as it twitches. “Do you like watching? Watching your cock go inside me while I move? Watch for me. Watch how well I take you. Your cock is so _big_ , nobody’s ever fucked me this good. _Fuck_ , I’m gonna remember this.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Obi-Wan breathes, his eyelids fluttering closed as Anakin grins, the sound of Obi-Wan so undone something precious to him, something priceless.

“That’s very dirty language, Obi-Wan,” Anakin chides, his voice filled with false admonishment. Obi-Wan’s eyes shoot open in defiance, though he is still softly panting.

“You’re one to talk,” Obi-Wan grits out, the sound of it oh so strained, Anakin smiling, knowing how close to the precipice Obi-Wan must be.

“Mhm, I just can’t stop talking about how well you _fuck_ me. But I’ve always known you would—”

“ _Anakin_ , please,” Obi-Wan sighs, the sound of his voice a taut string being stretched beyond its limit. Anakin only increases his pace, his motions growing erratic as he nears his own orgasm.

“First, you’re going to make me come,” Anakin says, starting to stroke his cock. “Hold me tighter, mmm, just like that. Oh god, you’re gonna make me _come_ _for you_. Be good and make me come,” Anakin says, his pace frantic as he moves, Obi-Wan’s breath a series of gasps as he nods, beyond words. Anakin moves downward, clenching down around him, and then it hits him. Obi-Wan holds him tight as he begins to tremble, coming in long spurts across Obi-Wan’s stomach and chest as he cries out wordlessly, lost in a haze of feeling. All the heat pooled between his legs spreads throughout his body and he is falling into delicious nothingness where Obi-Wan waits to catch him in his arms. 

Anakin pants as he comes down from it, still moving, so overstimulated and sensitive, whining as Obi-Wan gazes up at him as though he is something truly holy. He looks down at Obi-Wan, his thumb brushing a strand of cum from his cock.

“That felt so _perfect_. Oh, I feel so good now. Come for me, Obi-Wan. Show me how you love me like this,” Anakin says, and then Obi-Wan’s head is pressing into the pillows, his eyes closing as he moans Anakin’s name, his grip growing impossibly tight, and Anakin gasps at it as Obi-Wan thrusts up into him, watching Obi-Wan’s face contort and then relax in pleasure, moving on him, fucking himself on him through his orgasm. Anakin sinks down one last time as Obi-Wan groans, grinding against him as he holds onto Anakin as if for his life.

Obi-Wan opens his eyes, takes a deep breath, then smiles up at Anakin, looking more content than Anakin has ever seen him, all the veneers he’s put in place having fallen away in the face of his intimacy with Anakin.

“Anakin, you are _remarkable_. I love you,” Obi-Wan says, seeming to calm down a little. Anakin narrows his eyes.

“I love you too. Are you alright?” Anakin asks, concerned that perhaps he’s pushed Obi-Wan too far in his excitement. Obi-Wan nods and smiles.

“Never better. Why don’t we go and clean ourselves off, and then we can talk,” Obi-Wan says, a promise in his eyes. 

“Alright, I’ll help you, and you help me,” Anakin says, climbing off him carefully. Anakin leans down to plant a kiss on his forehead, the sensation of completion of body and soul rushing through him.

“How thoroughly would you like to clean yourself?” Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin frowns, thoughts of an enormous bathtub filling his head.

“You’re asking if I want a bath again, aren’t you? You and your baths. I’ve never met someone who took so many baths. I was always told that was bad for the body,” Anakin grouses, crossing his arms over his chest, the sweat still slick on his body sticking his skin together. 

“That’s where you’re wrong, Anakin. Bathing is good for you. And yes, I believe now it is time for a bath. We can use the bathhouse—”

“Why do—how do you even _have_ that?” Anakin asks, uncrossing his arms and climbing off the bed, watching as Obi-Wan does the same, a mischievous glint in Obi-Wan’s eyes.

“Some of it I built myself. I had some help. People will build you anything for the right price,” Obi-Wan says, and he looks down at himself. “I’m a mess, Anakin.” Anakin laughs, covering his mouth with his hand to prevent the full force of it from barging into the room.

“I apologize,” Anakin says. “Let’s go to the bathhouse then.”

\---

“So, why exactly do you think I don’t bathe enough? Before I came here, I _did_ bathe about once a week, you know. In the river,” Anakin says, rinsing himself off as Obi-Wan watches, his eyes betraying a type of interest Anakin is all too eager to indulge in. Obi-Wan moves closer to him, the water rippling around his waist as he approaches.

“In my time, we bathed in bathhouses such as these every nine days, but we washed ourselves daily,” Obi-Wan says, wrapping his arms around Anakin’s neck. “And I figure, if you have your own bath, why not _indulge_ a little?” And Obi-Wan leans in to plant a kiss on Anakin’s cheek, his lips lingering a bit on Anakin’s skin before he pulls away to look at him.

“So you believe in indulgence now? And here I thought you were the most self-denying creature on the planet,” Anakin teases, leaning in to place a chaste kiss on Obi-Wan’s lips, the feeling of it still fiery and new to him.

“Well, sometimes we must deny ourselves. But when it comes to you, my dearest Anakin, I’ve grown tired of denial,” Obi-Wan purrs. “Would you like me to help you move your things into my quarters after we’re done here?” Anakin’s eyes widen at the prospect he’s been presented with.

“You mean it?” You want me to stay with you permanently?” Anakin asks, hope flooding his senses like clean water, flushing out doubt. Obi-Wan smiles.

“There are few things I have meant more sincerely,” Obi-Wan says, his face relaxed and content, radiating the kind of vulnerability that Anakin would never seek to prey on.

“What things have you meant more sincerely?” Anakin asks, curiosity threading its way through his system.

“When I told you I could stay with me for a year. When I told you I love you. As I said before, Anakin, I’ve known no love like yours, and I don’t intend to know a love other than yours, for the rest of my existence,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin feels tears welling up in the corners of his eyes, his heart swelling with the pure devotion that rules his body and mind.

“I meant it when I said I wouldn’t leave you. When I said I love you. But, Obi-Wan, are you sure you’re okay? I know I was a bit...intense,” Anakin says, searching Obi-Wan’s eyes for any sign of regret or indecision. Obi-Wan chuckles.

“My dear wild rose, I am happier than I have ever been. But this is new for me, so allow me time to grow used to it. Perhaps we can talk when we return to our quarters,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin’s soul leaps at the sound of the word “our.” _Our_ quarters. They are as much his as Obi-Wan’s now.

“Let’s go now. I want to lie down with you,” Anakin says, eager to have Obi-Wan hold him again, the thought of it sending a pleasant shiver fluttering down his spine, his body sated and his mind at peace.

\---

“Mmm, so you’re sure you’re alright? I didn’t push you too hard?” Anakin asks, snuggling up to Obi-Wan in Obi-Wan’s— _their_ bed. 

“I am more than alright. I’m happy,” Obi-Wan says, stroking Anakin’s still-damp hair with one hand.

“I want you to know, I have been forceful in my approach to you at times, and I hope I didn’t cross any lines that you wish I hadn’t,” Anakin says, pressing himself closer against Obi-Wan.

“Anakin, you must understand. I do not allow people to step into my life—my _existence_ , if you will. But you invited yourself in, an unexpected guest. At times, I resisted that, in an effort to keep both you and myself from pain. But Anakin, never before have I been so glad at an uninvited guest. You are dear to me. You always have been, in a way. I simply did not allow myself to see it, and that causes me no small amount of regret,” Obi-Wan says, a soft sigh leaving his lips as if a ghost of missed opportunities.

“You have always been dear to me in a way as well. I took every chance I had to push myself closer to you, and now that I’m finally here, I don’t regret a thing,” Anakin says, his mind now wondering. “And, you still think to be a vampire is to be damned, so why did you agree to turn me?” 

“I’m selfish. There are things I believe I _should_ do, there are things I need to do, and there are things I choose to do because perhaps I think I am wrong in what I think I should do. The thought of you aging as I lived on, fading away until you are nothing but a cold corpse, still clutching my hand as you pass into realms where I cannot follow is a thought that chills me more than any of the carnage I have seen. I’m no saint, Anakin. I am selfish. I want you. I want your presence in this world. I need you, therefore, I will do what I must,” Obi-Wan says, and he holds Anakin a little tighter.

“So it is purely because you are selfish that you have chosen this? Selfish in a destructive way? I think you’re too unforgiving. Remember, this is what I want. You are so bent on assigning negative qualities to yourself that you forget what it is you’re truly doing. You are honoring the choice of one whom you love,” Anakin says, his tone insistent. Obi-Wan chuckles.

“Oh, Anakin, how you love to remind me of what I think I represent and who I truly am. Yes, I am honoring your choice to be by my side. Forgive me if I am quick to assign judgment to myself,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin feels him relax a bit, his body almost limp against his own.

“The emotions we feel are complex, almost never simple,” Anakin says. “Do not rope yourself in because you think it will make things easier, because it won’t. You will only suffer.”

“You truly are wise beyond your years. You continue to surprise me in all the most delightful of ways,” Obi-Wan says, his hand stilling on Anakin’s hair. Anakin grins.

“Well I think I have plenty of time to keep surprising you,” Anakin says, throwing one of his legs over Obi-Wan’s, almost possessively.

“Indeed you do,” Obi-Wan says, and Anakin allows his eyelids to fall shut, feeling the creeping presence of sleep sneaking through his senses.

“Tired? Sleep, Anakin. I will be here when you wake.”

“I know you will.”

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Godspeed.


End file.
